


We'll Sink to the Surface and Hold On.

by rufflefeather



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Genderswap, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-21
Updated: 2012-03-21
Packaged: 2017-11-02 07:05:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/366284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rufflefeather/pseuds/rufflefeather
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Original summary: <i>From the kinkme_merlin prompt "Arthur/Gwen, Arthur/Gwen/Merlin, Arthur and Gwen get married but despite Arthur's best efforts Gwen doesn't seem to be enjoying sex. It turns out that although she loves Arthur she's sexually attracted to women and so doesn't get that turned on by sex with a man. Wanting to satisfy her, Arthur asks Merlin to come up with a spell or potion that can turn him into a female so they can use it whenever they have sex."</i></p><p>Remixed from Merlin's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We'll Sink to the Surface and Hold On.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sophinisba](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophinisba/gifts).
  * Inspired by [We'll Slide Down the Surface of Things](https://archiveofourown.org/works/62256) by [sophinisba](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophinisba/pseuds/sophinisba). 



> This is the first remix I’ve ever done, and the hardest part was turning this into something I would write, not into something I thought sophinisba would like. (Although I still hope they’ll like it. A little. *bites nails*.)

If to love was to let go, Merlin was an expert by now. 

Or maybe not. Maybe not at all. Loss veiled him like fog a lake, heavy and dense at first, then slowly burning away but never quite dissolving even if it wasn’t always visible. He’d known Arthur wasn’t for him – even if he wasn’t king, he just wasn’t inclined that way – and Merlin had learned to curtail his lingering fingertips. Once, Merlin had clung to Arthur’s shirt, had wet his shoulder and his lips and Arthur had let him. It was worse than if Arthur had pushed him away; that impassive allowing to be kissed with salt and hurt at the end of every breath. When Merlin had calmed down, Arthur had just palmed Merlin’s shoulder and spoken of tears and their worth. And still Merlin followed Arthur to meet what they thought would be his death. 

The wedding didn’t smart as much as it could’ve, because Merlin had Lancelot by then. Lancelot who knew as much about having something long enough to feel it slip through his fingers as anyone. Arthur was handsome and Gwen was beautiful and together they were regal. Merlin knew by then why Gwen was a broken shade when Morgana turned her back on them. Still, if he’d learned anything from being near Arthur, it was that love is nothing to be messed with. He declined her plea for help, even when she put his hand on her breast and asked him, “What does that make you feel?”

“Nothing,” Merlin said. The flesh was soft beneath his fingers, nice to touch, but nothing stirred in his blood.

“Exactly,” Gwen said, but she paused at the door, looking determined and apologetic at once. “I do love him, you know? And I will marry him.”

“Yes,” said Merlin, “I know.” He surprised himself when he felt no resentment. 

*

Arthur came to him next, aiming for imperious – he thought he was good at that and Merlin didn’t tell him otherwise – but his pride sounded wounded and small. He stumbled over words like appetite and moods and Merlin might’ve caught on faster if the days of a court sorcerer were any less busy than those of a servant boy. Lack of sleep and all that. Eventually Arthur took a deep breath and decided to speak plainly.

“For sex,” said Arthur. “Do you have a potion, or a spell, anything like that, to help someone enjoy sex.” Arthur’s jaw tensed as it always did when he expected to be made fun of. Merlin smiled because Arthur like this was too easy a target.

“I’m sorry,” Merlin said, “but she already asked me.”

Arthur’s face paled like a sunless morning and Merlin remembered all the times Arthur had been betrayed, by those who loved him and those who didn’t. It dislodged an ache in him Merlin thought had been embedded and buried deeply since the magic was no longer secret. He didn’t like to linger on the years where he worried every night that he’d wronged beyond repair. Merlin could see the hurt dawn in Arthur’s eyes so he spoke before that trap would close on them. 

"I wouldn’t say she’s been suffering, no," said Merlin, "she just – It's not her favourite thing, is all. I can sympathise, you know? But it's not something I know how to fix."

"Well why the hell not? You're her friend, and if anyone can come up with a love potion, or whatever kind of –"

Merlin shook his head. "Love potions and spells are dangerous, Arthur, I should think you'd be as aware of that as anyone. And,” he added, “if I were the kind of sorcerer to make love potions, don't you think I would have made you drink one a long time ago?" Merlin smiled. The one he received in return was tinted with a little sadness. If things had –. If things –. If. There was no point in following that particular train of thought so Merlin allowed it to die when Arthur looked away. 

“You wouldn’t,” Arthur said softly and Merlin paused a breath and reveled in a brief but overwhelming moment of knowing Arthur trusted _him_. Not Merlin the hapless servant. But all of _him_. 

*

Merlin had a hard time not laughing when both of them returned. Gwen’s eyes were shining with mirth, but with excitement too. Arthur just looked like he’d rather have his face licked by a wilddeoren. Still, “It would only be temporary,” Arthur said and Merlin sucked in his cheeks when Gwen added, “I think he’d look really nice”. 

"Well, he's not going to be ugly, obviously," Merlin agreed.

"It _would_ only be temporary, right,” Arthur said, ignoring them both. “I mean, you'd make a potion and I'd drink it, and an hour or two later, or at any rate by morning it'd wear off. There wouldn't be any danger of…permanent…"

"I'd need some time to develop something like that. Um, test it out on some animals. Maybe on me, although– " Merlin thought of Lancelot, and what he’d have to say if Merlin permanently turned into, say, Merlina. He probably wouldn’t mind all that much. 

Arthur and Gwen were still talking, and Merlin only had to catch the end of it to know he needed to get them out of his chambers sooner rather than later. 

“ – the part where you still have a penis that's always rubbing up against –"

"Right, but not actually sticking it –"

"All right, all right!" Merlin shouted, putting up his hands. "I don't actually need to know those kinds of details in order to make the potion!"

"Sorry," said Gwen and Merlin was a little mollified when she had the decency to at least look sheepish. Arthur was trying very hard to act like he was in control of the whole situation and Merlin allowed himself a brief sigh of melancholy at the lengths Arthur was willing to go through to please his queen. 

*

“Merlin.”

He looked up to see Lancelot standing by his side. He’d been so engrossed in laying the final hand to this potion, he hadn’t heard his door opening. Lancelot brushed his knuckles along the side of Merlin’s cheek and he felt a shiver of affection traveling straight to his dick.

“Will I see you tonight?” Lancelot asked, his voice soft and husky and still the right side of chivalrous, as if Merlin had to be treated like a maiden who needed to know she had the right to refuse. Well, –

“Why don’t you come to my chambers,” Merlin said and Lancelot smiled. It made Merlin’s knees feel a little weak. “But eh,” he continued, “I may be a little, um, different.”

“Different?” Lancelot asked, curious but not suspicious. Never suspicious of Merlin. He never had been and Merlin cherished him for it. 

“You’ll see,” Merlin grinned and for the first time since they started this silly venture he felt a tingle of excitement. 

*

“Merlin,” Lancelot said, in an echo of his earlier entry. It was the first time Merlin had seen Lancelot with anything but an expression of quiet serenity. Lancelot took his knightly code to bed and he woke up with it. It wasn’t something he donned like a cloak and a sword when Arthur had need of it. It was in his blood. Maybe that was why he could step down for Arthur and Gwen’s union with more grace than Merlin had. Still, having Lancelot look at him like that made up for _a lot._ “What –”

“A little experiment,” Merlin grinned. He stood and moved around his table, marveling how his body felt more lithe, more graceful. He was wearing nothing but a shirt that now reached his knees and Lancelot seemed unaware of the door falling into the lock as Merlin padded toward him on bare feet. “For Arthur and Gwen.”

“Ah,” Lancelot said, needing no more explanation. “I see.” He paused. Took a breath. “Your face –” He brought up a hand and cupped Merlin’s cheek. “You look so … soft. So smooth.”

“That’s the idea, I think,” said Merlin. 

“So do you want to –” Lancelot swallowed hard and his gaze drifted to Merlin’s chest. He snapped his eyes up again, mortified at his own lack of self-control. 

Merlin grinned, had never seen Lancelot this speechless. “Hey,” he said, stepping into Lancelot’s space. “It’s still me. No need to worry about my honor or my virtue.” He grinned again. “Or babies.”

He’d made sure of that.

Merlin had to look up at Lancelot now, and he found it oddly pleasant. There was a vulnerability in that he’d never known before. And yet, the way Lancelot’s eyes were blazing, the way his breath was already labored and Merlin knew he was struggling to keep his composure, it felt like a different sort of power all together. “Lance,” he whispered, “kiss me.”

“Oh god,” Lancelot groaned, and he buried his hands into Merlin’s longer hair. He moaned into Merlin’s mouth, then wrapped an arm around Merlin’s waist and lifted him off the floor. “Oh my god,” he said again when Merlin wrapped his legs around him. “I need a second,” he said, holding Merlin so tight it was difficult to breathe, pressing his face into Merlin’s neck, “or this will be over very soon.”

“Careful,” Merlin laughed softly, “or I’ll have to be jealous of my own body.” 

Then, Lancelot’s mouth closed on the soft of Merlin’s throat as he pinched a nipple through the rough fabric of Merlin’s shift and he forgot how to be coherent. He moaned and let his head fall back and Lancelot made a small whimpering sound. “Merlin,” he said carrying Merlin to his desk and pushing scrolls and quills out of the way with one arm, “Merlin. I don’t think I can wait. Are you ready?” He sounded broken and was trembling all over, and Merlin lay back, legs spread with Lancelot between them. 

“I don’t know,” he said. He felt hot like burning, but he didn’t know what it was like for a woman to be ready. 

When Lancelot pushed the shirt up and touched him between his legs, Merlin cried out. Two fingers slipped into him easily and Lancelot’s knees buckled when Merlin clenched down on them. “Lancelot, please,” Merlin moaned, not knowing what he was begging for until Lancelot’s mouth closed over the center of his need. A sob wrenched itself from his throat when Lancelot’s teeth grazed the bud lightly as he sucked and spread two fingers inside Merlin at the same time. Merlin grabbed a fistful of Lancelot’s hair and pushed his face harder between his legs. Merlin’s back arched off the table, his legs spreading further and he tensed all over unable to fight it. “More,” he cried out, “Lancelot I need more.”

Lancelot pushed in a third and finger-fucked Merlin with short, hard thrusts. Merlin’s body convulsed and the orgasm burst out of him from the core of his being. Lancelot surged to his feet, pushed Merlin’s shirt up further with one hand while tugging his britches open with the other and entered Merlin’s still spasming cunt in one drive. He lifted Merlin off the table, one arm tightly wrapped around Merlin’s waist, one hand tangled in his hair and kissed Merlin violently as he carried him to the bed. 

Merlin could taste himself on Lancelot’s tongue and was surprised at the different flavor. He instantly forgot about it when Lancelot arranged them on the bed and began to move with a trembling rhythm, still trying to be careful, to not hurt him but the effort made him vibrate from head to toe. Merlin knew a moment of such pure, undiluted affection, he felt his throat seize up. 

Their kiss began to break into sobs and sighs and Merlin surged with every move, his legs tight around Lancelot’s thighs as he urged him deeper, faster, harder. Lancelot’s hair was damp with sweat, his face open and fragile as he gazed at Merlin. Lancelot looked like he was falling apart. He took one of Merlin’s hands and placed it between them and _oh_. Lancelot’s head dropped to Merlin’s shoulder when he couldn’t hold himself up any longer and when Merlin moved his hand and touched Lancelot’s balls, Lancelot moaned, sped up, fucked Merlin hard and fast until his entire body went rigid. Merlin could feel him pulse deep within him as Lancelot let a silent cry against Merlin’s shoulder. He was so still, Merlin couldn’t even hear him breathe. 

“I’m sorry,” Lancelot whispered eventually, hiding his face in Merlin’s neck. “I’m so sorry.” He tried to pull away but Merlin held him in place and tugged at Lancelot’s hair but he refused to look at Merlin.

“What ever for?” Merlin said. Merlin felt delirious and knew that if Lancelot moved, he’d come again but he didn’t understand this sudden change. “Lance?” he asked, worried now in the heavy silence. 

“I lost control, Merlin. I’m so sorry,” Lancelot said quietly.

“Lancelot,” Merlin said against Lancelot’s ear, “you losing control is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Really?” Lancelot said, shifting onto his elbows, and by doing so pushing deeper into Merlin again. Merlin drew his bottom lip between his teeth and let his head fall back.

“Yes,” he muttered, “are you still –, can you –”

Lancelot moved, slowly and Merlin clenched around him.

“Merlin,” Lancelot said, “look at me. Oh, god, _look at me_.”

Merlin opened his eyes and Lancelot moved again. He wasn’t completely hard anymore, but it was enough and when Lancelot pushed two of his fingers into Merlin’s mouth, Merlin arched off the bed and came again, panting hard.

They remained entangled between the sheets and themselves and Merlin felt a deep fulfillment he hadn’t experienced very often. Maybe this time, he wouldn’t have to let go and lose himself again.

“Tomorrow,” he whispered, mouth against Lancelot’s temple, “tomorrow is your turn.”

~fin~


End file.
